


A tug of something unknown

by agirlwithnoname



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 10:56:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlwithnoname/pseuds/agirlwithnoname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Merlin first feels it, he’s not far away from Avalon. It’s a pull, a tug of something unknown behind his heart, yet he knows at once what it must be. </p>
<p>Major spoilers for Merlin 5x13!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A tug of something unknown

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first version of this as an anon ask for someone on tumblr, but the thought of the fic wouldn't let go and I simply has to write a full version of it.
> 
> Major spoilers for Merlin 5x13!

When Merlin first feels it, he’s not far away from Avalon. He is simply walking in the bright daylight, thinking of finding a place to rest his head for the following night when the feeling stops him in his step.  
It’s a pull, a tug of something unknown behind his heart, yet he knows at once what it must be.  
He’s running before he realizes it.

He’s wearing his young face, his original face again, and he is happy for that, he doesn’t have to waste any time changing his appearance. He had decided too long ago, that when this moment came to pass, he would wear his first face for it.  
His magic is roaring inside of him. It’s pushing him forward with a force that would be overpowering any time else, but now it is simply encouragement.  
The magic wants to be whole, it wants back its purpose, and he is returning.

Merlin jumps off the road to a small ancient path that he has himself worn into the ground. His feet know the way, they know the right moment to jump over tree roots, they know every stone, every tree, they know every step.

He stops in his tracks on the edge of the woods and his breathing is harsh from the run, but he doesn't waste a moments thought for it.  
  
On the surface this day looks like all other days he has stood there, looking over the lake, but this day is more. He is certain of this like he is certain that the sun will rise every morning.  
He slips his bags off his shoulders and throws them behind him, his eyes already fixed on the lake.

His heart is pounding in his chest, and his magic is trying to escape from his fingers, but he remains still, staring at the water.

Merlin can not say how long he stands there, motionless, his eyes on the still water. Time lost all meaning a long time ago, and all he cares about now is the future, of things to come.  
For a thousand years he has lived for this day, for this future to come true, and his head feels light at the knowledge that this will be the moment.

And then the water is motionless no more. Bubbles arise from the deep, like lungs that were not there a moment ago, had just blown out their first breath.  
Merlin finds that he can not breath for himself.

More bubble arise, and the water moves as the figure in it makes for the shore. The small waves arising from the movement feel like mother nature helself is rejoicing and dancing to honour the return of the mighty king of these lands.

A head pushes from the water and gasps for breath.  
He stays there for a moment, breathing in a harsh way, with lungs that are at the same time never used and too old. The figure in the water takes looks for the shore and raises its head above the waves he is creating himself. He takes a few tentative strokes, and finds his footing and starts to walk.

Merlin feels as if the trees around him have grown over him and rooted him in this spot. He has waited. He has waited for so long. The magic inside of him feels stronger than ever before. It's as if it had waited in the water as well, and is now returning to him. The sheer force of that power is making the roots grow stronger around his paralyzed feet.

The figure steps on the shore, heavy red cloak soaked, his ancient armor glistening with water.  
He turns his head and sees Merlin standing there on the edge of the woods.  
For a moment neither of them moves, they simply stare at each other.

The world goes quiet. Merlin is not sure if his magic escaped him, if nature itself is staying silent for the once and future king, or if the whole world has just felt the rebirth of the man that will save all of them.

Arthur moves first, his feet heavy, but steady. He walks, quietly, with his gaze fixed on Merlin to the edge of the woods where the other man is standing.

Arthur stops in front of him, so close that their feet are touching. Small drops of water are dripping from Arthur on Merlin and the ground.

Merlin stares at him, and a small smile finds a place on his lips. A smile which he thought he had lost for life. Slowly a smile settles on Arthurs damp lips as well, as if his face isn't quite sure how it's supposed to work quit yet.

Merlin is grinning now, with a smile that comes from his heart, from his soul, from the power that lives within him.

“You took your time you clotpole.”

He doesn’t care when his clothes get soaked when Arthur takes him on his arms and embraces him with all the love in the world.


End file.
